


And Yet, I Remain

by radama



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Everything I write is angsty and gay, F/F, Gay, I can’t help it, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radama/pseuds/radama
Summary: When Paris’s biggest threat is removed through circumstances that no one can really explain, the city’s three heroes, Rena Rouge, Ladybug and Chat Noir are left duty free, and yet, confused.Surely there must be an explination of what went down that unforgettable day, of what saved and ended that final battle...Perhaps, just maybe, one day the answer will come to them.





	1. Introduction

How?  
How had it come to this, to a stand off that no sane man would want to find himself in?  
A masked man, imposing in his stature and equally as such in manner, stood perfectly still a top the railing of the tower platform, unshaken by wind, words or the weight of the threat he was making.  
In his hand, screaming and crying, was a child, a mere infant. A blonde baby of no more than six months old, whom was being held over the railing by the scruff of her onesie.

Opposite the man and his captive, stood three people, a trio who had sworn to protect this city and all whom dwell within it.  
Heroes, they were called, though in this very moment none of them felt much like it. How small they felt, how helpless and afraid as the tiny hostage cried her tiny lungs out, unable to understand just how much danger she was really in.

One of the trio bared her teeth, snarling like the fox her outfit resembled.  
She spat words like venom, aiming to burn like the most corrosive of acid against the man’s skin.  
Each slid off him, no more harmful than rain against an umbrella during the lightest of sun showers.  
Yet she continued to bombard him, her words the only weapon she had left, as her flute sat broken at her feet.  
Not that it would of been of much use anyway, as the baby-napping man had made it clear he’d do good on his threats if they dared to try and stop him.

The second of three was silent, barely in the moment as her mind ran and raced. Paris thought of her as the leader of the trio, as the one who always knew just what to do, who had a PLAN.  
She had no plan.  
The stakes were far too high, with such an innocent life on the line and no one able to move and save her, lest she end up taking a rather horrific trip down to the pavement.  
No risks could be afforded in a situation like this.  
And so she stood there, bluebell eyes wide and unblinking as she ran though plan after plan, scenario after scenario, desperately trying to find the perfect idea that would never come.

Then came the last, the only hero in a team of heroines.  
Normally he was a man of laughter and joy, known for cracking jokes and playing about as he fought.  
There was nothing of that man now.  
He was but a crumpled mess of a person, a broken array of tears and desperate pleading as quivering arms reached out to the looming man and the crying little girl, to his father and his daughter.

The shattered hero knew, knew who the man was beneath the mask, as did the rest of the team. That knowledge was two fold, as the masked man knew just who it was he was fighting against as well.  
Yet he showed no guilt, no care or flicker of doubt as he held the infant, his granddaughter, over the railing, ready to drop her to her death if he didn’t obtain what he wanted.

To all whom observed, the outcome was obvious: The heroes would give in, trade their miraculous for the child, and the tormentor of Paris for so many years would finally gain his prize, and with it, what he’d been after all this time.

Fate had a funny way of proving people wrong though.  
Or sick, in some circumstances, and that was certainly turning out to be one of those. For, to the horror of all that watched, the man that reeked of cruelty and despair, loosened his grip on the child.  
The heroes, so shaken and overcome by blind terror and stomach twisting desperation, responded just a moment too late.... and no matter how fast they moved, they could only watch in horror as the screaming baby girl fell.

And fall she did, fall and fall with a surprising amount of luck, as she managed to avoid hitting anything, beams and supports.  
Fall and fall and fall, careening down at terrifying speeds.

A city watched, helpless as she fell.  
And fell.  
And fell.

Until, suddenly, she stopped.

————————————————

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he caught the precious child, just inches off hitting the ground.  
Oh maaaan, had that been a close one! Another second and, well, to be honest he really didn’t want to think of how that would of ended up.  
But hey, that was the past now, an outcome that had never come to pass and thus, couldn’t harm him anymore than, well, anything could, as far as he was concerned.

“Man kiddo, you’re hella lucky you won’t remember this. Wish I could say the same about me. Heck, I swear you almost gave me a heart attack!”

He laughed, head shaking as he bounced the tiny blonde bundle in his arms, watching in adoration as her cries ceased and pearls of bright, bubbly giggles came forth instead. Ah, how it warmed him to always see her so joyful at his mere presence. She had a way of making a dude feel wanted, feel needed and precious.

“Alright. Let’s get ya back to Papa, okay? I’m sure the dude is worried outta his brains.”

With a low chuckle from himself and nonsensical string of babbles from the tiny human he’d saved, the young man made his way slowly up the tower, ignoring the gasps and shocked shouts as he did.  
Yeesh, did everyone have to stare like that? It made him kinda uncomfortable.  
Still, he pressed on, not once stopping until he’d reached the top.

He was cautious, avoiding the furious battle that stood before him.  
Wretched screams and fractured cries filled the air, as fists flew in a righteous flurry, aided by kicks and claws and bodyslams.  
The fighting was feral, a grief fuelled fiesta of pain that seemed endless and, from his point of view, completely unstoppable.

That was, until the cry of the child in his arms broke through, distressed deeply by all the confusing noise, and brought with it a sudden stillness.  
All at once the battle had stopped and all eyes were on the tiny wailing blonde.  
In the eye of the storm he crossed the warzone, coming to stop in front of the man with shimmering eyes of green, so wild and yet, now they overflowed with a million clashing emotions that were all wrapped in an all encompassing relief.

He returned her to her father, smiling to himself as the young girl settled.  
Nothing was said, and the silence between all adults remained, even as he turned to face the masked man, no, perhaps demon was a better word to describe him? After all, with what he’d done there was no way he could ever be seen as human.

With that thought in mind he drew in close, to the creature that dared stand before them as though he too, were human, and he rose his fist.

“.... I feel like I should have something epic to say, ya know? Some kind of snarky one liner like they do in the movies. Not that you’d actually listen or hear it. It’d just be wasted on you.”

A sigh left his lips, joining a half hearted shrug as he curled his now free hands into hardened fists, ones that shook with barely repressed rage.  
His eyes glistened, a shimmering gold that glared powerfully at the being that stood before him, just starting to recover from his shock.  
Not that he ever fully did, as before the beast of a man could do so, a fist went swinging into his face, sending him staggering backwards. He hit the rail, hard, so hard that his body bent backwards...  
And then he went backwards, right over the railing and off the Eiffel Tower.

Unlike the child there were several horrid thunks throughout his fall, and it ended with a sickening smack against the pavement below.

————————————————

There was a silence in the aftermath of the battle, the final one between the heroes and Hawkmoth, as it turned out.  
For months after there would be hushed rumours about how it all ended, about how it went down and the mysteries that surrounded it.  
How had the baby survived such a fall? How had Hawkmoth fallen? None of it made sense, not a lick of it. It wasn’t something Paris’s protectors could explain either, for they had seen about as much as everyone else had.

What had they seen, one might ask?  
Well, a levitating infant was certainly an oddity, and without an akuma to magically explain it away, or the aid of heroic powers, it was truely downright impossible. 

Ladybug had told the press over and over that she just couldn’t explain what had happened, that one moment she was on top of the tower with her partners, Chat Noir and Rena Rouge, trying to negotiate with Hawkmoth.  
The next, the baby was falling and then... well, had floated back on up, right into her feline partner’s arms.  
Then, BAM, Paris’s number one most wanted had stumbled back as though struck and fallen to his death.

That was never quite enough for the media though. No, it had to be something more, something epic. The leading theory was that Chat Noir had pushed Hawkmoth from the tower the moment his daughter was safely back in his arms, that he’d taken advantage of the shock frozen moment to enact dear, sweet revenge. Yet without any proof no one could every really state it as fact, nor would Rena Rouge and Ladybug let anyone tarnish their teammate’s reputation like that.

So the truth remained hidden, and at least in the few weeks after the battle, it was kind of pushed to the side. For as curious as Paris was about Hawkmoth’s demise and levitating children, they were far more interested in the identity of the once most feared man in France.  
Thus the Agreste name suffered as Gabriel was revealed.

Curiously enough, the heroes never found the stolen miraculous on him. Instead, along with Nooroo, the brooch was anonymously returned to Master Fu, leaving them impossibly more confused.

Just what on earth was going on? Was some benevolent force toying with them, playing just out of view and taunting them with all it could do?  
This was a question that plagued them in the time after the battle, as did many others. Yet the answer never came, at least, not until a few years later.

No, it wasn’t until that very baby that had been dropped from the tower, now a giggling, joyful child of three, uttered a short few words while playing, that they would finally have their answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I had a strange dream, and I just really remembered this one scene. I explained said scence to a friend and well, she suggested I fic it. So, here’s the first part, because I suck at writing one shots.


	2. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I finally got around to writing again!  
> From here on out I think I’ll actually plan out plot points... that might make it all easier to write.  
> Anyway, here it is.  
> Enjoy!

Nina Celeste Agreste. That was the name of the child.  
She was a bright one, a tiny ball of energy and joy that always seemed to shine like the sun she partially shared a name with.  
Her blonde pigtails always bounced as she played, often running about with her imaginary friend.

There had been a time when Adrien had worried about that, about her closest friend being one that no one else could see. But wasn’t it normal for children to have them, friends that existed only for them? Especially as an only child.

Although he loathed the thought of her being lonely due to her having no siblings, she seemed more than happy enough with her invisible companion, and constantly assured her dear Papa as such.

“It’s ‘kay Papa. I’m not all alonely! I gots a forever friend! And Papa too!” she’d always proudly proclaim, smiling wide as she’d puff out her tiny chest.

Adrien would always laugh and pat her head, at least contented to know she was happy with their little family. Besides, Nina had two of the best aunties in the world in Marinette and Alya, both of which constantly spoiled her, and had whispered to Adrien not a month ago that it wouldn’t be long before she would have a cousin to play with.

Still, when Nina slept at night and only he was still awake, he’d sit alone on his balcony, staring out over Paris and the twinkling night sky above it.

Adrien would count the stars, one by one, and trace patterns with his fingers, as though they held all the answers in the world. As though they held HIM.  
It never failed to bring tears to his eyes.

Yet it was pointless for Adrien to wish, to dream that he wasn’t gone, that he was here with them, to complete their little family.   
No, he was dead. Very, very dead.   
Adrien had watched him die himself, a memory that still made him shudder violently to this day.

But just being out there, just staring up at the night sky... It made him feel closer, as though the man he missed so dearly was right beside him. It brought a warmth to him that he couldn’t quite describe, and it was one he brought to bed with him every night.  
The warmth soothed him, and let Adrien sleep nightmare free.

The blond man let out a sigh, rubbing at sleep riddled eyes that always carried hints of the exhaustion that never left him these days.  
No, he knew he shouldn’t let himself dwell upon the past so much. What was the point in it? It only made the present that much more difficult to bear with.

Which, really, he couldn’t afford! Adrien already had his hands full.

There was the company, the fashion empire his... father had left behind for him. Not that he did much for it besides being a figurehead.  
These days Nathalie was the one actually running the business, with Marinette as the head designer and Alya head of their media department, both appointed as such by Adrien himself.

Honestly, it ran far better under his three favourite miracle workers than it ever had under Gabriel Agreste, a fact that had prompted him to change their name from Agreste to Miraculous.

Adrien would never forget the groans and eye rolls from his fellow ex heroes for that terrible little inside joke of a pun. But hey, the company needed a new image! One that was far, faaaar away from his super villain of a father’s legacy.

Then there was his actual job, the one he enjoyed.  
And no, it wasn’t modelling. That path had died along with Gabriel, as Adrien felt it should have. He’d never really liked it much anyway. Modelling was such a demanding and often, demeaning business...

No, what he did these days brought him actual joy, and that was writing.   
Children’s books, to be exact. Books that made kids laugh and smile, that sneakily taught life lessons and snuck in reminders of importance, that told children that they were smart and kind, good and wanted, that they deserved all the love and safety in the world. That he believed in them.

It always made Adrien’s heart melt when he got to meet his readers, children whose lives he’d made better, who he’d inspired or helped through tough times.

Last, there was Nina.  
Dear, sweet, Nina, his bubbly little girl who always smiled up at him as though he were her whole word, whom he’d smile back at, certain she was his.  
She was the sole reason Adrien even bothered to get out of bed some days.

Heck, it was why he’d gotten up today.

Adrien sat outside as he watched his daughter run around their backyard, giggling and babbling to herself as she chased after something, probably NiNi, her best friend.

Adrien had chuckled when he’d heard that name. It held so many bittersweet memories for him, yet he was sure it was just a child’s unimaginative name for a person she’d entirely made up.

At least, that was what he’d thought.

Until she’d broken Adrien from his thoughts once more, as she came running up to him, her smile as bright as ever as she clambered up into his lap.  
Nina gazed up at him, with a look in her big, golden eyes that just screamed she knew something he didn’t.

“Papa, Papa!” she cried out in excitement, bouncing in his lap as Adrien softly chuckled.

“Yes, Kitten?” 

“I gots a seeeecret! A reeeeally big one!” 

At that Adrien raised an eyebrow, exaggerating the expression until it had Nina bursting out in a flittering peal of childish giggles.

“And what would it be, huh? Are you going to share it with your Papa?” he asked, watching as his daughter gave a tiny, giggly nod.

“Uhuh! NiNi saids I should! Saids it’s time!” 

Nina seemed almost unable to hold her words, to keep herself from blurting everything out in an overly excited babble.

“Oh did they?” Adrien chuckled, expecting some kind of childish secret, something silly about the flowers or faries or anything equally as inanely cute.  
Of course, things never quite turned out as he expected.

“Yeeeeeep! Papa, you gots to listen reeeeeeeal good, ‘kay?” 

Listen Adrien did, leaning in and making a show of cupping his ear, as to be able to hear the bouncing three year old all the better.

“Talk away, Nina.”

Talk away she did, in the most ridiculous of whispers, like someone who didn’t quite understand how to and was trying and failing to imitate it.  
Which was probably the truth of it, considering her age.

“NiNi’s not ima- imag... not not real! He’s real real! Spooky real!” Nina tried to explain, her tiny face scrunching up as she realised she lacked the words she needed.  
Not that it was a problem for long, as she started tilting her head and staring ahead of herself into nothingness, giving serious little nods that looked nothing short of adorable to her doting Papa.

“Ghost. NiNi- .... No?” Nina paused, seemingly confused for a moment. Then understanding seemed to dawn upon her, and all her previous confidence returned.  
“Nino! Nino’s a ghost!”


End file.
